Post by ParamountKeymaster on Jul 28, 2016 21:38:43 GMT -5
When one sets out on a grandiose mission spanning many locations and/or an extended period of time, it's often customary to keep a record of important events, denoting when and where they occur, even if said record is entirely mental. Keeping track of your journey, however, is no easy task when your travels are largely fourth-dimensional and, to this extent, almost exclusively nonlinear. Of course, keeping track of your journey is also entirely pointless when you can psychically perceive your own past and future actions in every conceivable timeline, even if you yourself were or will not be the iteration to carry out those events.
Nonetheless, when you're on a mission, sometimes you have to stop and mull things over. Plan a course, more or less.
Clockwork was no exception.
So there he was, sitting comfortably on a piece of debris in yet another destroyed Medium. All around him were meteors and rubble, bits and pieces of what used to be Prospit, Derse and eight tiny planets. Above him, reflected in the lenses of his goggles, was a black hole, slowly draining the light of Skaia. In all fairness, obliterating these doomed timeline sessions was something that Clockwork never got tired of... but it sure did leave him exhausted. After all that fun, he needed to sit down for a moment and let his automatic processes as an Heir of Life and Prince of Doom restore his HP. In situations like this, rest periods never lasted long.
But no one ever said that Clockwork was patient.
With a hoarse, garbled sigh, Clockwork lowered his scarf, hacked up the black slime in his throat and spat it out into the void. Sure, he was enjoying himself as much as he could out here, but he still wasn't any closer to the perfected form he sought. There was only so much abuse this body could take. The constant cycle of abuse, healing and further abuse, both from opposing forces and the strain of overexerting his powers... it was so tiresome and frustrating.
Once he had hope, he'd never have to worry about any of that again. His sickness would be gone. No enemy could strike him down.
At least, that was what Clockwork believed.
And as we all know, when Clockwork believed in something, that made it an indisputable fact. Right?
Ugh... What he wouldn't give to just skip forward to his own victory.
As he watched the swirling blue light above him grow dim, Clockwork noticed a luminescent crack amongst the infinite blackness. Another rift torn open in the Bard of Void's wake.
Over time, as he watched these rifts spread across the void, Clockwork grew to enjoy his many encounters with the temperamental troll, even those in which his alternate selves suffered to a point where even their life and doom powers could not revive them. The duels they engaged in tended to range from mediocre squabbles at worst to high-octane adrenaline rushes at best, but what really got him excited were those fractures they created. It was fascinating to watch the chaos they caused as the gaps in space and time shortened and varying elements from different worlds violently collided with one another.
If they kept this up, the entirety of paradox space just might shatter and collapse in on itself.
It would truly be a beautiful sight when that happened.
Perhaps he would go seek out the troll once he had regained his strength...
No... Clockwork quickly decided against that. As anxious as he was to watch the multiverse crumble, he had to ensure that there was at least one viable timeline intact through which he could obtain the Rogue of Hope's powers. Perfection first. Then the end of all existence.
With that in mind, Clockwork reached into his pocket and pulled out a phone, one of many that he had snatched from the players he killed. Directly observing the tangled webs of time would only be needlessly taxing on the energy he was trying to regain, but his curiosity had been piqued and he would not ignore its cry. He had to know what was going on in the alpha timeline.
He opened Dimensional Clash...
Well... fantastic. Time and space out here might not have worked in the linear fashion that they did in a three-dimensional plane, but the Medium was still very receptive to what the universes around it would consider the present. Such correlation was essential in order to ensure that players in the Incipishere could communicate in an orderly manner with players still on their home world. And according to this device, at the point in time Clockwork currently occupied, very little progress had been made on the website that chronicled his playthings' story.
A growl escaped his throat. How was he supposed to achieve perfection if these peons wouldn't hurry up and write it? He was getting sick of reading these pointless threads in which these melodramatic puppets held get-togethers and talked about their feelings and went on pointless side quests and blah blah blah. It was so tempting just to start harassing them with more vaguely threatening posts, but that would just be a waste of his precious time. Besides, why should he stoop to the level of those wretched trolls? They had served their ultimate purpose; excluding the Bard and potentially the Seer, the only purpose they served now was to be killed.
While he contemplated his next course of action, Clockwork scanned the Recently Updated Threads section to see what these abysmal writers had last worked on. Most of them appeared to relate to stories he was not involved in. Perhaps he could insert himself into one of these events. It would be an opportunity to deal more damage while also serving as a reminder that he was still out there and he would kill them all if they didn't get moving. Yes, that was a wonderful idea, Clockwork decided. It was definitely an idea that only he could come up with.
As for DCStuck... the most recently updated thread involved some side-story about alt-timeline ghosts gathering information about him. Like that really mattered. What threat and/or use were a bunch of ghosts? None, that's what. Unless he found a way to kill ghosts, Clockwork decided that this thread was pointless. Yep, he definitely decided that. No point in arguing this thread's relevance. Who was there to even argue with?
Wait... The Man to Man thread... Upon further inspection, Clockwork discovered that the Rogue had finally unlocked his powers. It was about bloody time! Just one step closer to seeing that whelp reach god tier. One step closer to the powers Clockwork needed. But good grief, it was last updated June 12th?! Did these people not care about the demon threatening to kill them, let alone the countless other threats their story would produce?! What was their deal?!
Clockwork let out another growl. It was pretty much his default noise, given the bile constantly threatening to choke him. Something had to be done about these writers. Something had to happen around here.
He was tired of waiting. He had to do something.
Yes. Clockwork definitely had to do something.
Nonetheless, when you're on a mission, sometimes you have to stop and mull things over. Plan a course, more or less.
Clockwork was no exception.
So there he was, sitting comfortably on a piece of debris in yet another destroyed Medium. All around him were meteors and rubble, bits and pieces of what used to be Prospit, Derse and eight tiny planets. Above him, reflected in the lenses of his goggles, was a black hole, slowly draining the light of Skaia. In all fairness, obliterating these doomed timeline sessions was something that Clockwork never got tired of... but it sure did leave him exhausted. After all that fun, he needed to sit down for a moment and let his automatic processes as an Heir of Life and Prince of Doom restore his HP. In situations like this, rest periods never lasted long.
But no one ever said that Clockwork was patient.
With a hoarse, garbled sigh, Clockwork lowered his scarf, hacked up the black slime in his throat and spat it out into the void. Sure, he was enjoying himself as much as he could out here, but he still wasn't any closer to the perfected form he sought. There was only so much abuse this body could take. The constant cycle of abuse, healing and further abuse, both from opposing forces and the strain of overexerting his powers... it was so tiresome and frustrating.
Once he had hope, he'd never have to worry about any of that again. His sickness would be gone. No enemy could strike him down.
At least, that was what Clockwork believed.
And as we all know, when Clockwork believed in something, that made it an indisputable fact. Right?
Ugh... What he wouldn't give to just skip forward to his own victory.
As he watched the swirling blue light above him grow dim, Clockwork noticed a luminescent crack amongst the infinite blackness. Another rift torn open in the Bard of Void's wake.
Over time, as he watched these rifts spread across the void, Clockwork grew to enjoy his many encounters with the temperamental troll, even those in which his alternate selves suffered to a point where even their life and doom powers could not revive them. The duels they engaged in tended to range from mediocre squabbles at worst to high-octane adrenaline rushes at best, but what really got him excited were those fractures they created. It was fascinating to watch the chaos they caused as the gaps in space and time shortened and varying elements from different worlds violently collided with one another.
If they kept this up, the entirety of paradox space just might shatter and collapse in on itself.
It would truly be a beautiful sight when that happened.
Perhaps he would go seek out the troll once he had regained his strength...
No... Clockwork quickly decided against that. As anxious as he was to watch the multiverse crumble, he had to ensure that there was at least one viable timeline intact through which he could obtain the Rogue of Hope's powers. Perfection first. Then the end of all existence.
With that in mind, Clockwork reached into his pocket and pulled out a phone, one of many that he had snatched from the players he killed. Directly observing the tangled webs of time would only be needlessly taxing on the energy he was trying to regain, but his curiosity had been piqued and he would not ignore its cry. He had to know what was going on in the alpha timeline.
He opened Dimensional Clash...
Well... fantastic. Time and space out here might not have worked in the linear fashion that they did in a three-dimensional plane, but the Medium was still very receptive to what the universes around it would consider the present. Such correlation was essential in order to ensure that players in the Incipishere could communicate in an orderly manner with players still on their home world. And according to this device, at the point in time Clockwork currently occupied, very little progress had been made on the website that chronicled his playthings' story.
A growl escaped his throat. How was he supposed to achieve perfection if these peons wouldn't hurry up and write it? He was getting sick of reading these pointless threads in which these melodramatic puppets held get-togethers and talked about their feelings and went on pointless side quests and blah blah blah. It was so tempting just to start harassing them with more vaguely threatening posts, but that would just be a waste of his precious time. Besides, why should he stoop to the level of those wretched trolls? They had served their ultimate purpose; excluding the Bard and potentially the Seer, the only purpose they served now was to be killed.
While he contemplated his next course of action, Clockwork scanned the Recently Updated Threads section to see what these abysmal writers had last worked on. Most of them appeared to relate to stories he was not involved in. Perhaps he could insert himself into one of these events. It would be an opportunity to deal more damage while also serving as a reminder that he was still out there and he would kill them all if they didn't get moving. Yes, that was a wonderful idea, Clockwork decided. It was definitely an idea that only he could come up with.
As for DCStuck... the most recently updated thread involved some side-story about alt-timeline ghosts gathering information about him. Like that really mattered. What threat and/or use were a bunch of ghosts? None, that's what. Unless he found a way to kill ghosts, Clockwork decided that this thread was pointless. Yep, he definitely decided that. No point in arguing this thread's relevance. Who was there to even argue with?
Wait... The Man to Man thread... Upon further inspection, Clockwork discovered that the Rogue had finally unlocked his powers. It was about bloody time! Just one step closer to seeing that whelp reach god tier. One step closer to the powers Clockwork needed. But good grief, it was last updated June 12th?! Did these people not care about the demon threatening to kill them, let alone the countless other threats their story would produce?! What was their deal?!
Clockwork let out another growl. It was pretty much his default noise, given the bile constantly threatening to choke him. Something had to be done about these writers. Something had to happen around here.
He was tired of waiting. He had to do something.
Yes. Clockwork definitely had to do something.
