Saevitia
Posts: 58
12/7/2015
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Have you ever wondered about mirrors? How they work, what they do? I used to.
Did you ever think you were the only one who wrestled very literally with your reflection? I used to.
Do you still wonder what happens in the world where that coin landed tails instead of heads? Or perhaps on edge? I used to.
To these questions -- and many, many more! -- I have discovered answers, half-truths, and dispelled half-lies! I want to share this knowledge with you, all of you, to no personal gain beside knowing I have contributed advances to the great pursuit of knowledge. Should you wish to assist me in this endeavour, address your response to Professor Reflector care of The Careless Whisper (the newspaper, NOT the establishment of ill repute). Volunteers, lab assistants, fellow scholars, even students -- all are welcome!
Alternatively, you may encounter me by speaking loudly about your fondness for and curiosity about mirrors and other reflecting devices while under the care of The Careless Whisper (the establishment of ill repute, NOT the newspaper).
Appropriate damages will be paid in the event of accidental blindness, dismemberment, or death by sorrow-spider.
-Professor Reflector, Doctor of Unnatural Philosophy
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Saevitia's profile and appearance! [Gone NORTH]
Now playing Esméralda, Saevitia's former helmswoman and moralistic Campaigner; she looks like this.
I'm usually up for RP. Social actions are generally accepted; those with in-character RP invitations are most likely to be reciprocated.
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Charlotte_de_Witte
Posts: 360
12/7/2015
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Dear Professor,
I write in regards to your recent newspaper posting. I fear I am in need of help and know not where else to turn. I confess, recently I have become something of a Catoptrophile. Sometime I find I simply stare into mirrorss for hours, looking to see the slightest change in my reflection. The shifting ripple of slivering light on its ssurface. The glimmer of something sparkling in a sstill puddle. Sometimes the reflection I see there is not my own. Now, I find I carry a mirror with me at all timess, just so not to be caught without it. I sleep with it under my pillow at night. Why I am so compelled, I may not... that is I mean to ssay, could not tell you. In the darknesss emerald lights flicker and gentle sibilations mummer just out of hearing. Someone, or ssomething is watching back! I keep my kitten close. I am raising susspicions. I do not know for how much longer I will able to fool my friendss that this is all ssimple vanity?
Or... or no. No, wass this all a dream? Yessss, yesssss Professssor, all sssimple harmlessssss. How sssstupid of me. Perhapsssss it wasssss all jussssst a mossst sssssilly dream.
THEY KNOW! THEY ARE ALWAYS WATCHING! THEY ARE COMING NOW! HELP ME!
Merry Ratmas :-)
--
"Do one thing for me, Sredni Vashtar."
Social actions welcome. Only, send me dupes if you need help with the Affluent Photographer please, I like the bats! [And boxed kitties, and extreme gardening]- Thank-you!
http://fallenlondon.storynexus.com/Profile/Charlotte%20de%20Witte
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Guest
12/7/2015
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A certain hooked-hand-currently-Genial Magician wishes to speak about your "experiments"
edited by the truthseeker on 12/7/2015
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Saevitia
Posts: 58
12/7/2015
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[An editorial in The Careless Whisper, a somewhat questionable publication that never quite disagrees with the revolutionary types as strongly as it probably should]
Hello, readers, it's Professor Reflector again. Good to see you again -- directly, not as images bounced off strange worlds and gleaming surfaces.
I received a letter recently, quite possibly from you. I know, I know, you didn't write a letter, so it couldn't have been from you. But are you so sure about that? Perhaps you did and forgot. Perhaps you didn't, but that other one, the one who looks like you, who won't stop telling you they're the "real" you, perhaps they wrote. Regardless, light a candle, cover your mirrors for a few moments, and relax. I've got some advice to give, free but for the price of this paper.
Have you ever really looked at the letter "S"? It's a lovely one, I know, all sinuous and curvy, it seems to sound itself for you by shape alone. When you think of "S", you probably think of more than one, as in "hiss" or "snakes". That's fascinating, isn't it? One letter, a common one, so tied up in the way we think and speak, and so directly connected to the old tale of forbidden knowledge, the serpent guarding the apple.
There's another "S" word in that story, you know, one of great relevance to this discussion: seduction. That's right. The ssserpent -- see how right it looks with the repeated letter even though any academic will tell you that isn't how it's spelled? -- seduced Eve, according to the story, convincing her to eat the fruit of knowledge, to expand her knowledge and vision. We won't talk about the rest of the scene here; you know it, and it's only relevant in today's London as a trite metaphor for the city's much more literal fall.
But to get back to those seductive serpents and their sinuously shaped letters: Are you worried now? Do you think maybe you like "S" too much? Maybe, just maybe, all those mirrors are showing you a different world, one that's a little too... rippled? Have you found yourself wondering if maybe you could push through the mirror's surface, or toss a rock into it to watch concentric circles flow outward? It sounds relaxing, I know! I may well do it myself later tonight, even, but let me make just one little request of you, dear reader: Don't do it alone. That's right. Find a friend, someone you know and trust, maybe someone who is a little worried for you but you've reassured them because of course there's nothing wrong. You just want to share the experience, let them see everything is okay.
Tell them you'll agree to get the help they think you need if they still don't believe after tonight. And then, well, come on down to the offices of The Careless Whisper and ask for Professor Reflector. We'll see if we can't schedule you a special session, show you what all these mirrors can do.
Keep an eye out, dear readers!
-Professor Reflector
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Saevitia's profile and appearance! [Gone NORTH]
Now playing Esméralda, Saevitia's former helmswoman and moralistic Campaigner; she looks like this.
I'm usually up for RP. Social actions are generally accepted; those with in-character RP invitations are most likely to be reciprocated.
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Amyntas
Posts: 72
12/8/2015
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Dear Professor,
Your fixation on letters is admirable but, in my opinion, misguided. You seem knowledgeable - enough so, in fact, that I will do you the courtesy of assuming that you already possess some understanding of the nature of a certain other alphabet. The ideographic contours of this particular alphabet are far more worth your attention than the roman S, and if you were to divert yourself from mirror-gazing for long enough I am sure that you would find it most edifying.
Our languages are pithy by comparison to what we've researched of this other alphabet. Miring yourself in English or any other language of the mundane will lead you to a dead end, of this I can assure you. Moreover, perhaps it may be best to the affairs of mirrors to the intrepid oneironauts who deliberately lose themselves therein. The public needn't be troubled with things of this nature, especially not in such a cryptically enticing (or, dare I say it, seductive) manner.
All the best,
Amyntas
P.S. I'm going on a trip to Polythreme very soon. When I return, I would love to receive you for tea and conversation if you were so inclined. I think we might both be able to learn from the ventures of the other.
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Amyntas. Zubmariner and aspiring romantic.
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12/8/2015
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(the truthseeker)
While he suspects what remains of the professor will not wish to stop, even if he understands, he writes a letter and pens its "publications" in the secret journals for those who cage others to do what must be done if it continues.
[OOC: an fantastic anthology of letters of course! But no way could my character approve.]
[spoiler]To: Professor Reflector, Doctor of Unnatural Philosophy
Dear professor:
It has come to my attention (from a distant seafaring relation's Chief Engineer, but I digress,) that you are endeavoring upon an investigation into a realm that will offer no personal benefit, and may already be too late in regards to the first stages of personal possession.
What you are beginning to study is the "dream" realm of Parabola. Such things are a direct conflict of the Laws of Existence, and as such, literally must hide from anything that allows structure (including Sunlight's revealing ways.) While I shall not speak with such mindless sermons as the old preachers in regards to Damnation, I will say this literally is an Abomination on this world, and the previous city's empire the "scholars" so lovingly nickname it "The Forgotten Quarter," was lost to such creatures. Again, an entire city.
How it was lost is no "romantic" tale either. The creatures (who can literally take upon the appearance of serpent forms the size of a digit, thus their nickname "Fingerking") convinced others to set up mirrors (their communications portal into this reality) all over the city and "convinced" the same as you how "no harm" would happen if they "ride" in your body. Eventually, this ride became permanent and nothing is left of the people who used to inhabit the body or (even worse) their consciousness was trapped in their own body, helpless to do anything but watch their hijacked body (and this includes no ability to takes notes for experimentation; I know how you plot still sir!)
Should you doubt me still, please Travel to the Third Coil of the Labyrinth of Tigers and visit some of the Human residents. Or I should say the shell of the human bodies. Be notably Watchful, and you will eventually see through their false "pleas."
There is still time. Cover...no, smash every mirror you have and burn all notes to your current endeavors, and drink Laudanum until the Nightmares cease. Eventually, most of them do. If all else fails, I shall hear your Confessions, and I swear by Saint Joshua, they will touch you no more as the deepest point of the Nadir will hold them.
if you wish to study something literally Enlightening, I suggest returning to the Forgotten Quarter and focusing on the Correspondence. This will unlock a new language for you (and almost none of the scholars have spontaneously combusted in a year!) We have even gotten the Turbine working again to full intake at the University, and would support any and all Enigmas you find for such endeavors. This is groundbreaking work, and you may eventually speak to the Bazaar in his own tongue! (Well, according to certain plays, maybe, or perhaps her, but sex classification with these extra-solar specimens are not linked to biology the way local creatures are above. A mountain of living Vitality I recently did see while in Flint did not appear from any birthing canal, but rumors of Stone's daughter gashed out from her, did...but I digress again.)
Professor Reflector, I truly empathize with your search for truth. I swore an oath making it my one and only Name as vengeance to someone I lost what seems decades rather than solely fifteen months ago. And although I found their cause of murder, even if those responsible were to drop (and stay) dead this moment...even if the beings responsible were somehow merged into one being only and were to stay dead (unlike one before, but again, I digress and will say no more on this,) it would not satiate that hole you try to fill. I Know what your feeling is. I know it screams almost with audible words, "But I must know the truth. I must understand!" I write to you today sir, saying, you will not. At best, your mind will go off to a place of some Confusion and you will lose knowledge. At worst, you will go to Parabola, and never return to your body's control, assuming it's not eaten outright. Such vitality is...considered sustenance by quite a few "advanced" life forms.
And how do I know of this? Actually, I do not. Or more specifically, I should pen, I do not totally anymore. For as I pen this to you, I read from a letter. One of my very own. Written by my very hand to me. With just enough knowledge to prove enquiries into its validity authentic, and just enough forbidden knowledge saved to understand why you and I must stop here, with the rite seals and a faint echo of Irrigo to understand what was done. For I note that I had to perform a rite of Saint Joshua on myself or almost agree to the whispered promises of knowledge they exaggerated. You might have met a Magician this Hallowmas. Did you ask why he has a Hooked hand? They are why. He got out fortunate.
So, while I read this and see no way to escape the cliche' of a gothic Novel's ending words, but with all my remaining being, I beg of you: Please stop this, search elsewhere. For nothing exists but your own destruction!
May Saint Joshua ease your Burden of truthseeking, or I may place your living remains in the Tiger's cage myself one day.
Sincerely,
Mightnighter "the truthseeker" [/spoiler]
edited by the truthseeker on 12/8/2015
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Saevitia
Posts: 58
12/9/2015
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[Another publication within The Careless Whisper, this time ostensibly a critique of narrow-mindedness.]
Hello again, gentle readers, Professor Reflector here.
There has been quite the outpouring of response to some of the articles gracing this and other papers lately, much of it emotional. I'm rather touched by the concerns expressed; truly, Londoners still remember the value of watching out for their fellow man! Let's talk about things more frankly, shall we?
There's a certain feeling among some parties that, well, this research of mine is a danger. To me, to you, to London as a whole. I've had one particular preacher write in suggesting that perhaps I'd been consorting far too closely with devils and their ilk. An interesting speculation, and one I'd like to use as today's jumping-off point.
Do you know, dear readers, of the Devil? Not the friendly folk who will give you a lump of warm brass for your soul -- a bargain which this paper and this author can neither encourage nor condemn for legal reasons -- but the Devil with a capital D, the one the vicars go on about. You know, the horn-headed, goat-hoofed, fork-tailed Traitor of Heaven himself. Descriptions of him often involve the "stench of brimstone" or what we nowadays may call sulphur. That's right, good old helpful sulphur, a key ingredient of most things that go "boom" and industry itself. Now we could spend days arguing about whether or not gunpowder is a tool of the Devil, and plenty have, but it seems unnecessary. It's a tool, and that tool is only as dangerous as the person holding it.
The search for knowledge is a search for new tools. I don't plan to open any gates to Hell -- the Embassy has cornered that market anyway! -- but it's worth noting that even doubting my motivation here, it is an impossible task to undo something you do not understand. Breaking mirrors is no solution. Any sufficiently reflective surface, like those lovely gold buttons you're wearing, you fine dandy, is a mirror. Do you want to live in a world where we literally cannot bear to look at ourselves from fear? Or would you prefer to understand what's happening, so we can make sure it doesn't work against us?
Think about that, darling audience, before you rush to judge. Keep your minds open to new possibilities instead of thinking doom and destruction is around every corner. Just a thought, of course, but one I hope you'll take to heart.
As always, Correspondence welcome regarding this matter. I do enjoy a lively conversation!
Watch out for the spiders!
-Professor Reflector
[OOC note: There will be a separate letter addressed specifically to Midnighter and another for Amyntas. This was merely the published response.]
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Saevitia's profile and appearance! [Gone NORTH]
Now playing Esméralda, Saevitia's former helmswoman and moralistic Campaigner; she looks like this.
I'm usually up for RP. Social actions are generally accepted; those with in-character RP invitations are most likely to be reciprocated.
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Saevitia
Posts: 58
12/9/2015
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[A private letter; the handwriting is cramped and the message apparently not ciphered.]
Amyntas,
Coincidences aside, there are no coincidences. The Correspondence is a very interesting field of study, even though it lends to bloody eyes and blackouts and temporary madness. You're right, I've a bit of experience with it -- more than some at the university, possibly less than others -- but there's a reason I'm not working on it. You don't ask Sir Isaac Newton to take up painting because maths can be used to aim artillery. You let him do what he does and use the knowledge for good.
I'm not exactly Newton -- he was rather misanthropic, as I understand. I may not have quite his genius, either, but I've got some pretty good theories here about how these mirrors function. I need to perform some tests to be sure, otherwise how can we keep them from being used against us? Honestly, do you really want to have your eyes eaten while you're trying to shave? I sure don't.
Warmest regards,
Professor Reflector
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Saevitia's profile and appearance! [Gone NORTH]
Now playing Esméralda, Saevitia's former helmswoman and moralistic Campaigner; she looks like this.
I'm usually up for RP. Social actions are generally accepted; those with in-character RP invitations are most likely to be reciprocated.
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Saevitia
Posts: 58
12/9/2015
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[A letter carefully encoded for a Confessor of Saint Joshua and left at the shrine.]
To: "The Truthseeker"
[spoiler]
You wrote to me of some very interesting assumptions regarding mirrors. I have taken these warnings to heart, believe it or not, and I won't be used. I won't let the fear of the unknown (or "too known" I suppose, if you can read your letters) hold back progress. Progress, in this case, being twofold:
(a) a means of defense against these "fingerkings" that doesn't involve cutting myself while shaving every morning;
(b) discovery of a new way of travel that could revolutionize the world as we know it.
If there is some secret cabal working to keep these wicked Parabolans from conquering us, I'd prefer oversight to incarceration. I appreciate the veiled warning/threat of your letter; makes me think you've got a good heart going on there, or at least a practical one. (Honestly, puppet-slaves to extra-worldly entities never ends well for anybody, even in the romances.) I'd like us both to benefit from our new acquaintance.
As a last note, does soullessness have any effect on this whole fingerking/puppet business? Asking for a friend.
[/spoiler]
-Professor Reflector
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Saevitia's profile and appearance! [Gone NORTH]
Now playing Esméralda, Saevitia's former helmswoman and moralistic Campaigner; she looks like this.
I'm usually up for RP. Social actions are generally accepted; those with in-character RP invitations are most likely to be reciprocated.
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Amyntas
Posts: 72
12/9/2015
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Saevitia wrote:
[A private letter; the handwriting is cramped and the message apparently not ciphered.]
...
The reply is curt and written on the back of a business-card - not his own, unless his last name happens to be 'von Lieberman' and he suddenly decided to work in bricklaying. It was stuffed under the door at some ungodly hour.
It is funny, professor, that you should mention shaving. I haven't grown hair about my face and chin since I started looking into the Correspondence.
If I was not direct enough, my intention was to caution you against your work. The Correspondence is a virulent and terrible thing, but neither conscious nor innately malicious so far as we are aware. What you are tampering with has designs to ruin you. Nevertheless, you have convinced me that you will not budge in the matter of your research if nothing else. This, I can respect.
When next you publish your work, I will send you another letter. It will be encoded in the usual manner - I despise ciphers.
-A
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Amyntas. Zubmariner and aspiring romantic.
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12/9/2015
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[*The Midnighter chuckles at being called a "priest," then chuckles when he realizes how he just thought he wasn't.
It's not like I was a Crooked Cross or anything. I encourage individual Absolution, and still keep their freedoms. That other path often just....likes chaos or Wickedness, and little more. After all, I speak to the future ones committed to the Devils at the Orphanages, do I not? Still, I find it Amusing he uses the Lightbringer Metaphor as an Analogy to the Unexplored and Defended. He probably won't like my reply, but I'll keep it honest, for the true Devil's greatest power is convincing us He doesn't exist...well, looks like I am a slight bit of a preacher after all....]
[spoiler]Dear Professor Reflector:
Before I begin, your Soul is not for the Fingerkings, but for the Correspondents. You are but a morsel to the stars. If you ask what soullessness does to Fingerkings, you miss the point of the warning and fool me not, and fool you less.
I shall write to you in this letter on the path of Temptation.
While I am actually not a priest ordained by God's calling or any other Surface Religion's tenet, I did take the Oaths of our Devout Saint Joshua.
Saint Joshua as known to the Surface was the faithful second person in command only to Moses, accompanying him everywhere he went except where ordered not by God. He was one who had faith against overwhelming odds because it was proclaimed by our Lord to be so, and eventually led against Canaan after Moses's passing. So powerful was his devotion, faith and humility, God stopped the rotation of the sun's day and kept the battle alit upon Jericho for Joshua's forces to emerge victorious, as well as God's divine attacks decimating their enemies so pious was Joshua's fighting.
This was not done to blind devotion, nor to learning above all else, but to the combination of Faith, Knowledge and Humility. When in such balance, he was blessed with invincibility and personal infallibility in his conquests.
Yet still, his armies failed at times. he could not be stopped, but the flaws of his armies could.
Even as his end was near on this physical earth, he warned his people not to consort with the outsiders, knowing the temptation at the time was to turn them from the path God had asked them to take. Where many would take the remaining time to reflect or to enjoy final leisures, Joshua set up a great stone under an oak by the sanctuary of God to this promise just before dying at the age of 110, and no Unnatural Vitalities those many centuries ago.
The problem with Temptation is not the many forms it disguises itself in, but its most dangerous form is when we think ourselves "protected." It is important for us to fight against ignorance and dogma, especially when it demands "tradition" using Fear, Racism, and Genocide as its Shadow Trinity's calling to others. Even now with such a push for scientific reason, we begin to harness the power of Light and Electricity currents and are on the verge of sustaining such a marvel in the size of even this city!
Yet the same technology and talents we used to "improve" Southern African regions because "they were savages and we were in the right to rule them properly." I cannot say the final outcome of this after London fell (actually I can, but for the sake of international peace, I will not divulge the current powers actually in play,) but the warning there is clear. We are only as good as our worst decision makes us.
Temptation is not a whisper to do evil, but worsening-ly, to do things "for the greater good." How many people must die "for the Empire?" How many Clay Men should be "Given a Labour deal where we profit greatly even if it would be exploitive if humans got such a thing because they are so Bl**dy obedient?" How many Laudanum bottles must be drunk "Because it is the only thing that lets the dreams stop...I know it will work again?"
How many favours must be done for the beings that cannot exist without hijacking our bodies because they can "Promise great secrets and power that lay lost to centuries past?"
Today, if we venture into Swampland Jungle, we will eventually contract Malaria. We do not know of any preventative measures yet, but one day we will. We recognize our precautions and our limitations.
London once sent armies into Hell because of the above. Not only did we not prepare, we lost our Humility in foresight. We all know of most of the results. I am one of the few that knows exactly what happened to those soldiers not killed. it is one of the few times I forced myself to retain such learned horrors as a warning to others. Again, there are forces besides the obvious that shape such journeys people are not able to see even if right in front of them.
An addict promises they won't go down the same path that took them there before, but they lack the ability to change due to both physical and mental traps to ensure them staying in the same cycle. If they could navigate their way out, they would. but they cannot.
You promise safety in a state you cannot even take care of yourself, and a setup meant to trap multitudes of you deliberately and to never let you go. You fear to admit being trapped to appear "weak" but the true strength of an evil is to hide its existence to keep doing its nefarious work. Both without and within.
Perhaps one day we will learn how to take ourselves physically into thought, into dream, and to colonize....a Parabolean base camp if you will. But we lack the capacity to be able to do so. We lack the tools and the knowledge and we have the insight to know if we travel there now, it is a matter of when and not if we will become spiritually ill and risk losing our body's control to ourselves.
I shal close with the question, what is the greatest Sin?
That is Pride. Pride is what caused a Seraphim Angel to say it knew what was better than what was crafted from the beginning and to try to wrest all away from its grand creation. That was the Lightbringer or Lucifer's greatest fault. The greatest sin, the story of Saint Joshua and the reminder of Humility, the reminder of helplessness to recognize bad decisions risking even one's life with an addict, and especially the temptation to "do wrong for the good of others eventually" was to remind you to recognize that you are not ready, and we are not ready and such "experiments" only end in your loss. When the time comes, we will light the bulbs and illuminate another shadow that was ignorance.
But for today, I ask you to have the humility to accept that the day is not now, and to wait until you can be safely guided to that day, and ask us for help in guiding you before you lose your way into their Darkness. That is all I can say about your life.
And nothing I say here will help your soul, unless you care about your life first. or you will sell it like it is a meal to others, and not even the others you think it goes to.
May enlightenment be with you, but you still don't want to know what happens to your soul should it truly get to the heavens. Ever.
Sincerely hoping you will Confess to me, your Limitations
the truthseeker[/spoiler]
edited by the truthseeker on 12/9/2015
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Saevitia
Posts: 58
12/10/2015
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[An unusual entry in a paper often perused by those involved with the Game]
To my confessor,
We are in agreement on several matters. There are mistakes, and then there are mistakes. I'd rather not make more of the latter. Would you care to join me for an intense discussion of theology sometime, perhaps over coffee? I can't guarantee anymore sins, but nobody's perfect.
-Pref. Lector
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Saevitia's profile and appearance! [Gone NORTH]
Now playing Esméralda, Saevitia's former helmswoman and moralistic Campaigner; she looks like this.
I'm usually up for RP. Social actions are generally accepted; those with in-character RP invitations are most likely to be reciprocated.
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Saevitia
Posts: 58
12/10/2015
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[A last-page mention in The Careless Whisper]
Kind readers,
Here's a puzzle for you: Imagine, if you will, an automaton that can do no more and no less than it is programmed to do by its maker. Can you do that? Excellent. Now consider that this automaton -- we'll name it Gears for the sake of simplicity -- consider that Gears is going about its regular business, as its instructions state.
After a while, though, Gears starts behaving a little oddly. Now, it can't do anything it wasn't told to do, so whoever made it must have put those instructions in there somehow, right? Some time later, Gears does something its creator doesn't like, not at all. The builder decides Gears is out of hand, even though it has no will of its own. It wasn't designed with a will, you see, and it hasn't manifested one.
So what is the automaton's maker to do? What would you do? Would it be responsible, do you think, to simply kick Gears out of the house, never changing its instruction set? What about switching Gears off?
For that matter, who do you think is to blame for the bad things Gears did? Can the automaton be responsible for its actions, or should the person who made it be the one to blame for any harm it causes?
Please send your responses to the Whisper's front office, addressed to "The Problem With Gears". I'll discuss the most interesting arguments in my next column.
May your vision be ever clear!
-Professor Reflector
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Saevitia's profile and appearance! [Gone NORTH]
Now playing Esméralda, Saevitia's former helmswoman and moralistic Campaigner; she looks like this.
I'm usually up for RP. Social actions are generally accepted; those with in-character RP invitations are most likely to be reciprocated.
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12/10/2015
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Saevitia wrote:
[A last-page mention in The Careless Whisper]
Kind readers,
Here's a puzzle for you: Imagine, if you will, an automaton that can do no more and no less than it is programmed to do by its maker. Can you do that? Excellent. Now consider that this automaton -- we'll name it Gears for the sake of simplicity -- consider that Gears is going about its regular business, as its instructions state.
After a while, though, Gears starts behaving a little oddly. Now, it can't do anything it wasn't told to do, so whoever made it must have put those instructions in there somehow, right? Some time later, Gears does something its creator doesn't like, not at all. The builder decides Gears is out of hand, even though it has no will of its own. It wasn't designed with a will, you see, and it hasn't manifested one.
So what is the automaton's maker to do? What would you do? Would it be responsible, do you think, to simply kick Gears out of the house, never changing its instruction set? What about switching Gears off?
For that matter, who do you think is to blame for the bad things Gears did? Can the automaton be responsible for its actions, or should the person who made it be the one to blame for any harm it causes?
Please send your responses to the Whisper's front office, addressed to "The Problem With Gears". I'll discuss the most interesting arguments in my next column.
May your vision be ever clear!
-Professor Reflector
(Snow Belie, both Persuasive and [often forgotten about] Watchful)
To The Careless Whisper
Re:"The Problem With Gears"
Dear Professor Reflector:
Whist my exploits might be known to those of a more literary nature, my studies are also in the Mechanics of Correspondence. While that is Star-creature talk, it does follow a methodical and flow-logic manner. I shall use such discourse to explain said postulate.
Your own writings supposition the "being" is not aware or willed. Therefore, it cannot in any way be responsible both on a legal and on a moral culpable level. (My dearest readers, I know or both quite well!) If a machine is proven as such with no logical variance, then mechanically, it should be treated as such, a machine. The user of record who created and/or those who have shown legal caretaking of such are to proceed as they see fit for the continuation of said choices best for their community and their goals.
Your second mistake is you again use supposition of logic with opinion. (I have also repaired the grammar showing why in brackets.) "...So [from] whomever made it must have put those instructions in there somehow, right?" We have not determined what caused said actions against the plotted automation routine. A full investigation to how an Engineer trouble-shoots said device is required. If the rework is too costly, the the project may end. if it's a unique research event, it may still be salvaged for scientific purpose. If it's a damn bit of gear stuck in a tertiary cog wheel, then that is combed out.
As to what I would do with it?
For the sake of Scientific discussion and publication but with honesty intact, I will simply state, "Everything that pleasures me, and I would make it work!"
Thank you readers.
Sincerely,
The renowned Snow Belie
Author of "The Torrid Embrace"
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Yvraine
Posts: 3
12/10/2015
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The curt op-ed is written in navy ink and in a flowing, steady hand:
Most 'esteemed' Professor Reflector,
The Careless Whisper - despite its name - has hitherto been a periodical of intriguing, if highly unorthodox, thought; an expedition to the furthest reaches of man's reason and intellect. What you are asking and proposing, on the other hand, is mere tripe.
Please, I entreat you - keep to whatever honey den in which you dreamt this rubbish and save your poor readers both the time and overexcited nerves it took to read this.
Most sincerely,
Y
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No Affluent Photographer or bags of critters, please.
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Saevitia
Posts: 58
12/10/2015
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Saevitia read the latest note with some amusement in The Careless Whisper's editor's office. "It's Yvraine," she said to her two companions, "and she's accused us of writing 'mere tripe' with this Professor Reflector business." Her giggle turned into a cackle.
The white raven scoffed vocally; the black one muttered disparaging comments about Yvraine's parentage and virtue.
"Oh, settle down, you two. She doesn't know it's m- er, us writing as the prof. I'm sure the next time I have her over she'll gripe about 'him' and suggest I terminate the column entirely." Vitya hummed to herself, considering the letter before her. She had so many options for dealing with her friend it almost wasn't fair! (Almost.)
"Okay, here's an idea. Muninn," she addressed the dark bird directly, "I want you to write a letter to-"
The raven in question croaked rudely. "Give me one bloody good reason why I sodding well-"
"-totally unsupervised, dear friend." His protestations silenced immediately, head cocking to one side. Good; it meant he was listening. "That's right. I'm leaving you to write her whatever threats or subtle schemes you wish, no questions asked. But -- and this is important, so pay attention -- but I don't want you harming her or, you know, having her home ransacked. The most I'll tolerate is maybe spilling some wine on a good dress or a symbolic but otherwise meaningless pile of bat corpses on her doorstep. She's still my friend, after all."
She got the distinct impression Muninn was glaring at her.
"Those are my terms. Are they acceptable?"
The raven rocked from foot to foot a few times before responding. "Yeah. Yeah, I guess I can do something fun enough with that."
Vitya beamed. "Fantastic! I can't wait to see her reaction."
***
[A note, written in sharp, angled script, with a University return address on the envelope]
"Y",
As a peddler of lies, half-truths, and rubbish prose yourself, perhaps you should consider some professional courtesy before writing about fields you do not understand. I've half a mind to ensure you become suddenly unpublishable, perhaps through some strategic documents being sent on to the constabulary.
However, I'm a courteous fellow who believes in good, old-fashioned Christian forgiveness. Of course, said forgiveness is only possible after certain requirements are met, as you should expect. Absolution requires an act of contrition; your absolution requires the delivery of a crate of wine to the address on this envelope within the week.
If you don't think I can follow through on my threat, I suggest you consider very seriously all the places you've been lately and how many mirrors you've been around. Are you sure it was only your reflection staring back at you every time? Truly certain?
Consider it, Evraine.
-Reflector
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Saevitia's profile and appearance! [Gone NORTH]
Now playing Esméralda, Saevitia's former helmswoman and moralistic Campaigner; she looks like this.
I'm usually up for RP. Social actions are generally accepted; those with in-character RP invitations are most likely to be reciprocated.
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Guest
12/10/2015
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Saevitia wrote:
Saevitia read the latest note with some amusement in The Careless Whisper's editor's office. "It's Yvraine," she said to her two companions, "and she's accused us of writing 'mere tripe' with this Professor Reflector business." Her giggle turned into a cackle.
The white raven scoffed vocally; the black one muttered disparaging comments about Yvraine's parentage and virtue.
"Oh, settle down, you two. She doesn't know it's m- er, us writing as the prof. I'm sure the next time I have her over she'll gripe about 'him' and suggest I terminate the column entirely." Vitya hummed to herself, considering the letter before her. She had so many options for dealing with her friend it almost wasn't fair! (Almost.)
"Okay, here's an idea. Muninn," she addressed the dark bird directly, "I want you to write a letter to-"
The raven in question croaked rudely. "Give me one bloody good reason why I sodding well-"
"-totally unsupervised, dear friend." His protestations silenced immediately, head cocking to one side. Good; it meant he was listening. "That's right. I'm leaving you to write her whatever threats or subtle schemes you wish, no questions asked. But -- and this is important, so pay attention -- but I don't want you harming her or, you know, having her home ransacked. The most I'll tolerate is maybe spilling some wine on a good dress or a symbolic but otherwise meaningless pile of bat corpses on her doorstep. She's still my friend, after all."
She got the distinct impression Muninn was glaring at her.
"Those are my terms. Are they acceptable?"
The raven rocked from foot to foot a few times before responding. "Yeah. Yeah, I guess I can do something fun enough with that."
Vitya beamed. "Fantastic! I can't wait to see her reaction."
***
[A note, written in sharp, angled script, with a University return address on the envelope]
"Y",
As a peddler of lies, half-truths, and rubbish prose yourself, perhaps you should consider some professional courtesy before writing about fields you do not understand. I've half a mind to ensure you become suddenly unpublishable, perhaps through some strategic documents being sent on to the constabulary.
However, I'm a courteous fellow who believes in good, old-fashioned Christian forgiveness. Of course, said forgiveness is only possible after certain requirements are met, as you should expect. Absolution requires an act of contrition; your absolution requires the delivery of a crate of wine to the address on this envelope within the week.
If you don't think I can follow through on my threat, I suggest you consider very seriously all the places you've been lately and how many mirrors you've been around. Are you sure it was only your reflection staring back at you every time? Truly certain?
Consider it, Evraine.
-Reflector
[OOC Once again, just Bravo.]
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Amyntas
Posts: 72
12/10/2015
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Another note. This one has been written on the back of an envelope - the spidery, disjointed script is unquestionably Amyntas'. The envelope's address has been clumsily scribbled out, but it appears to have been addressed to a house somewhere near to Ladybones Road. Off Moloch Street, if one recalls. It does not appear to have been obviously enciphered or encoded, but he did say something about the publishing of 'work.'
I look forward to the results of this moral quandary you have presented to your readers. The staging of it reminds me somewhat of an old philosophical scenario Dr. M_____ once related to me. It had to do with dreams, and how one can discern the reality of one waking life from another. In truth, I am surprised you have not heard of it, and more so that you have not used it.
Perhaps you have already discovered the answer. Perhaps you have yet to ask.
I intend to use this question you've posed. I want to ask it to a Clay Man. There's a certain fellow, Collins, whom I've been doing my damndest to educate on behalf of a mutual friend. I believe a question of this nature might be just the thing he needs. If the publication does not outpace his ability to form a coherent answer, I will relate it to you in hopes that it might provide a new perspective on the answers you receive. Not to seem needlessly disparaging to your previous work, but I far prefer this kind of article to that unpleasant dream-business.
Yours, as ever,
A
edited by Amyntas on 12/10/2015
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Amyntas. Zubmariner and aspiring romantic.
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Saevitia
Posts: 58
12/11/2015
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[A half-sheet insert loosely tucked into most copies of The Careless Whisper and several other papers based nearby. Non-Whisper newsmongers seem quite perplexed at how something clearly designed for one paper ended up in so many others without anyone noticing.]
Lovely readers,
As before I have enjoyed the myriad responses to my latest publication. Some, however, have suggested my logic was faulty. You may continue to feel the premise of the question is somehow invalid because you disagree with the logic, but for the sake of argument, let us assume that the so-called assumptions I made during the description were not assumptive in nature, but descriptive. It is not that they must logically follow, but rather that they simply are, as in a proper mathematical proof. Consider them to be givens, won't you?
In the interest of awaiting what promises to be fascinating data, I will not discuss the Gears scenario for another full week. Meaning, I suppose, it is time to talk about mirrors again. I know, dearest audience, I know -- they are a dangerous subject and my research is, apparently, some small abomination against your deity of choice. And yet... I believe we as a people find ourselves crippled by our lack of understanding. Please, calm yourselves and hear me out.
What size mirrored surface is 'safe'? Is it only items designed to be mirrors that function as mirrors, or can sufficiently polished shoes and wedding bands also have these anomalous properties? Does breaking a mirror solve a problem or does it merely create scores of smaller problems with sharp edges? We need data to answer these questions and so many more. I want to help us get that data. And that means... I require volunteers.
While I obviously cannot predict all possibilities, I can promise the presence of highly trained marksmen to ensure any 'accidental visitors' are appropriately dealt with, as well as certain feline and avian presences to deal with unexpected snakes or spiders. All study participants will be named in any publications that come from said research, unless they do not consent to the attribution. There will also be monetary recompense.
And for the last time, no, I am not collecting or donating souls. Yes, the Embassy made an offer of partnership, but I rejected it. If anybody tries to tell you otherwise, ask them to produce the contract because I assure you, any such smugly brandished article will be a forgery.
Don't let them blind you with their truths!
-Professor Reflector
***
Leaving the newspaper offices, Saevitia wandered aimlessly for a bit before making up her mind on a destination. Might as well check in on some side projects. Maybe afterward she would swing by the docks, see to stirring up a small fight, then catch up with some of her zubmarine crew. But first…
“Right, lads, good work. Seein’ as the ‘Eadmistress is ‘ere an’ I don’t want you makin’ a mess while she watches, take five!” The grizzled rat shouted his apprentices down, sending them back inside the community centre. That done, he executed a smart about-face. “Righto, ma’am, wot can I do for you?”
Vitya squatted down to avoid towering overmuch. “Just checking in, Chief. How’re they doing? Frustrated enough to burn the place down and quit?”
The L.B. chuckled. “Not yet, ma’am, though not for lack of tryin’. I’m thinkin’ the first class’ll be graduatin’ next week. Wouldja care to be there?”
“Of course!” She nodded emphatically. “I’m really excited about it! Do you have caps and gowns and tiny diplomas and all that sort of thing?”
He looked puzzled. “I, er, no, ma’am, I don’t believe we do.”
Shaking her head, Vitya smiled. “Don’t worry. I’ll place the order, make sure they’re delivered ahead of time. How’s everything else going? How are you?”
“Not bad, not bad. To both, ma’am. The centre’s doin’ well, we get more an’ more takin’ a gander erryday to see wot we’re all about. The engineerin’ school is gettin’ more students all the time, too. Speakin’ o’ which…” He glanced about, making sure there were no stragglers listening in. “Word is the Scutterin’ Company and you have reached an agreement.”
Her eyebrows went up. News traveled fast among rats, apparently. “Of a sort, yes. They’ve detailed out a small squad – temporarily, mind you – in return for a small favour I did. Why, is that going to cause trouble here?”
The chief shook his head. “No, no, naught like that. I was thinkin’, though, maybe we should be talkin’ to the Company. Like, we could be an auxiliary. Surely they could use some engineers to help out. Sappers, demolitions, maybe even plain old armoury work.”
It wasn’t a bad idea. In fact, having a small army of highly capable rat engineers on hand during a heist could be fantastic. They could provide distractions, blow open vaults… The possibilities were endless! “I hadn’t thought of that. Sounds like a bloody good idea to me, but I don’t want you all to become conscripts. I don’t want the mercenary life to be all your youngsters can look forward to.”
“Me neither, ma’am! We’ll just… establish contact, let it be known we could maybe hire out some of our folk for certain jobs.” His mouth opened in what she presumed was some kind of satisfied grin. “A few of the lads were talkin’ about the Company already, see, so I’m thinkin’ if they know they could get a special place wot with the trainin’ they’re gettin’, maybe they’ll make sure to finish their course. Then they can always fall back on repairin’ machinery if somethin’ happens.”
Sounded good to her. “Good thinking. Let me know if you need anything to help out with that. Also, I can start working on ingredients for gunpowder and firearms if you were planning on starting a little weapons design work.” His eyes went wide and his body was literally quivering with anticipation at the thought. “I’ll take that as a yes. It may take a few weeks to get everything sorted, but we’ll make it happen.”
“Ohhhh, thank you, ma’am. You’ve no idea how excited that makes me.”
Vitya laughed. “Actually, I think I do. Anything else for now, Chief? I should be getting home, starting work on those requisitions if not.”
The head rat performed a snappy salute. “No, ma’am! Have a smashing night, and I’ll send a lad ‘round with a note when we’ve settled on a graduation date.”
Her whole walk back to the hotel, Saevitia was smiling. The Hjalmar Memorial Community Center and Engineering Academy was turning out to be one of the best investments she'd ever made.
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Saevitia's profile and appearance! [Gone NORTH]
Now playing Esméralda, Saevitia's former helmswoman and moralistic Campaigner; she looks like this.
I'm usually up for RP. Social actions are generally accepted; those with in-character RP invitations are most likely to be reciprocated.
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Amyntas
Posts: 72
12/11/2015
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“...So, with all of that in mind, what do you think Gears' creator should do? What would you do, in his position?”
Collins met Amyntas with a silent, uncomprehending stare. It was a look Amyntas had gotten increasingly used to over the course of the past month. Collins occasionally made shows of progress, able to parrot back snippets of fact and rote that Amyntas had impressed upon him; however, while teaching Collins that A is A and B is B went well enough, asking him to make the choice between A and B bore no fruit. As with so many others of his kind, Collins did not take well to the notion that he could determine the course of events in his life.
It was a stroke of some fortune that he had involved himself in the affairs of the Careless Whisper and the enigmatic Professor Reflector. A logical problem of this nature, Amyntas hoped, would strike a chord within Collins' mind. He and Gears had much in common, being made to serve until some perceived aberration crops up. He supposed that it might have been too much to expect for Collins to draw those parallels and identify with a hypothetical machine, but he knew not what else to try.
“Collins? Are you still with me?” Collins may not have been very good at self-determination, but his mind still wandered with incessant frequency. Often, he would think about his pets or his work and become lost in thought without meaning to.
“I DO NOT KNOW.” It fit well enough as an answer to either question. Collins followed his words with a sound like a distant tremor – a rumble of consideration, perhaps.
“You are aware that there's no right answer?” Amyntas recited. The response to questions of this nature had begun to fit neatly into a script, after enough time.
“WHY DID YOU ASK THE QUESTION?”
“Because you're supposed to think about it. It's a learning exercise.”
“I DO NOT KNOW.”
Amyntas felt his knuckles turning white. He bit back the harsh tone that bubbled in his throat. It was all he could do not to snap at Collins and shout him into silence. He silently repeated to himself that this was important, that Collins would only learn if he was coaxed in the proper direction, that this was a very important favor to a very-
“I DO NOT THINK THE QUESTION HAS AN ANSWER.”
“Well MAKE ONE UP, you chert-for-brains!” Amyntas was too late to restrain his temper. He clapped his hands over his mouth and stifled his own attempts at apology. In the silence that followed, Amyntas' eyes darted around the room for any avenue of escape. If Collins were to grow frustrated with him now, he decided, his best bet would be to dive under his writing-desk and make for the hallway where Collins would have to stoop his shoulders and shuffle along to follow.
As he was planning how he would navigate the exterior of his home once he had climbed out of the window, he realized Collins had started making that rumbling sound again. A glance at Collins' grey-green features revealed no sign of barely-restrained fury or loamy contempt. He was calm and – dare Amyntas say it – contemplative.
“I WOULD TURN GEARS OFF.”
“I… I beg your pardon?” Amyntas' tone betrayed none of his bewilderment. He was excited. Exultant, even. For a gleaming moment, he wanted to embrace this great pile of rubble.
“IF GEARS IS NOT WORKING THE WAY IT IS MEANT TO, IT SHOULD NOT WALK FREE.”
Amyntas stood, turning curtly on his heel toward the desk he had planned to use for cover mere moments ago. He sifted through the numberless scraps of paper and crumpled envelopes until his fingers finally closed around the thin, solid implement he had sought.
“Now, Collins,” Amyntas puffed, drawing out the fountain-pen, “if you're ever going to put those writing lessons to use, it's going to be now.”
~
Miracle of miracles – a letter of Amyntas' comes through the proper post, to the proper address, complete with a return address (conspicuously the same as the address on the envelope he'd written on last time) and a handsome stamp. The paper itself has a hastily-scribbled-out Brass Embassy letterhead and lacks even a single word written by Amyntas. The body of the letter is rendered in the heavy, blocky scrawl of one who understands Roman letters and English words in a strictly intellectual capacity. The edges of the paper are smudged with what appears to be clay.
THE PROBLEM WITH GEARS
IF I HAD MADE AN AUTOMATON TO SERVE ME, AND IT DID NOT ACT ACCORDING TO MY WISHES, I WOULD SWITCH IT OFF FOR GOOD. IF GEARS CANNOT WORK THE WAY IT IS MEANT TO WORK, THERE IS NO REASON FOR IT TO WALK AROUND. ESPECIALLY IF IT IS DANGEROUS. BECAUSE IT HAS NO WILL OF ITS OWN, IT CANNOT DETERMINE ITS OWN ACTIONS. IT IS THEREFORE SIMPLY WORKING IMPROPERLY. THINGS THAT DO NOT WORK PROPERLY MUST NOT BE USED. THERE IS NO RECOURSE FOR BLAME BECAUSE THERE IS NO WILL INVOLVED. GEARS' HARMFUL ACTIONS ARE AN ACCIDENT, THE SAME AS A FALLING STALACTITE.
I CAN DECIDE TO WORK OR NOT. TO HURT OR NOT. IF I AM TOLD TO DO SOMETHING, I CAN LISTEN OR DO SOMETHING ELSE. I CANNOT BE TURNED OFF. THAT IS WHAT SEPARATES ME FROM GEARS.
COLLINS
The note ends abruptly there. The word 'US' appears to have been written and then scribbled out before being replaced with 'ME' in the final sentence.
edited by Amyntas on 12/11/2015
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Amyntas. Zubmariner and aspiring romantic.
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